


The Spark

by DivineNoodles



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Background AsuRokka, Background KaoRimi, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, Jawa!Maya and Droid!Eve, Other, Star Wars AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DivineNoodles/pseuds/DivineNoodles
Summary: Maya's fixed up plenty of droids in her time, but none quite like this.
Relationships: Wakamiya Eve/Yamato Maya
Comments: 18
Kudos: 25





	The Spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YaGirlSkyByte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaGirlSkyByte/gifts).



> Happy birthday Sky! Sorry I took so long to get this to you, and I hope you enjoy it!

_ Rustle rustle _

_ Squeak squeak _

_ Clack clack _

Mechanical knobs and digits ratchet into place, oiled and shined to a polished glare. Little trappings of dirt and grime still spot the surface of the parts, a sign of classic wear-and-tear that no amount of elbow grease could remove… not that Maya has a lot of that in the first place; even for a Jawa she’s on the scrawnier end of the scale. Sometimes she considers keeping one of the droids she fixes up just for some easy muscle (well, not muscle… metal? Idioms are hard), but that’s not really economically feasible. Jawas are pretty social creatures by nature, and one who’s struck out on her own (like she has) needs every credit she can get her hands on. That means scavenging, bartering, and even taking one or two under the table deals to keep afloat. Not that those activities are hard to find on Tatooine—round a corner and chances are you’ll see some poor fool getting mugged for all they’ve got. Maya knows that from firsthand experience.

“And this socket goes here… looks operational… right arm clear. Geez, who left this droid out in the dunes in the first place?”

Maya actually has some inkling. Her current ‘project’ was scav— er, rescued from a nearby fighter ship wreckage, along with a handful of belongings in the cockpit: a dog tag for someone named “Asuka Toyama,” a small photograph of a blue-haired human woman with glasses (their wife, maybe?) and a charred R2 unit that’d been blasted right in the chest. Given the lack of a sun-charred skeleton in the pilot’s seat, this Asuka must have made their way back to civilization… though as to why they left a couple of half-broken droids with plenty of usable parts in the back seat, Maya has no idea. Didn’t they know how many nifty bits and pieces they’d abandoned?

“Power flowing to the circuitry… where’s the transformer? The transformer is always the most important part. There’s gotta be one around here somewhere…”

She rummages through the array of scrap and spare parts lying around her cave, finally fishing up the small box-shaped gizmo she needs and turning back towards her ‘patient.’ While the R2 unit she found was well beyond repair, this other droid was only missing a couple auxiliary components and some battery charge—pretty easy to fix it up and put it to market. For a clearly ancient piece of machinery, it’s doing pretty good for itself: the joints are all flexible, core systems appear to be intact, and even its white coat of paint has only a dozen nicks and scratches adorning it—more like battle scars than anything else. Of course, there was also the fact that the plating on its head is hanging on by loose threads (like pigtails), or how in place of a hand on one arm there’s some hollow component Maya’s never seen before, or the sheer fact that it’s clear from the droid’s design and specs that its purpose is rather… murder-based in nature, but Maya’s smart enough to know that assassin droids don’t just kill indiscriminately! …She thinks!

…Maybe she should get a consultation from some fellow droid hustlers first.

She groans at the thought as she jams the transformer into place. That hasn’t worked out particularly well for her in the past… her repair and upkeep skills are top-notch, she knows, but she has a horrible sense of appraisal and value. Back when she was on the sandcrawler she got underpaid and overworked and had no idea until a passing trader kindly laid it out for her. She doesn’t want to go back to that. Better to stay holed up in this cave and tiptoe down to Mos Eisley on market days… yes, a tight, cramped space like this suits her just fine. No need for anything (or anybody) else.

“Just slot that into that… charge’s up, systems are green… all that’s left is to turn it on.” Maya can’t stop herself from gulping and grabbing her small taser-stick in one hand as she inches her gloved finger towards the power switch…

_ Click _

“Ah!”

A spark shoots out right as Maya flicks it, singeing her fingers and sending her shrinking back. She warily holds the taser-stick in front of her in defense—only to realize that it’s been short-circuited by the shock. 

_ …Oh. _

The droid’s whirring blue eyes hum to life.

_ Oh no. _

It rises from her workstation, revealing its tall, bulky figure was even bigger than initially thought.

Maya tries to step back, but she’s already at the wall. Her taser-stick hits the floor as the behemoth droid shambles on towards her, its imposing figure staring her down. 

“…Are you the one who reawakened me?”

Unable to say anything that isn’t a yelp, Maya nods shakily.

“I see. In that case…”

The droid bends down towards her, and Maya shuts her eyes, awaiting whatever grizzly fate she’s due…

...Only to feel metal arms wrap tightly around her abdomen and lift her joyfully into the air.

“Thank you very much, kind friend! The galaxy owes you a debt of great gratitude!”

The droid is… hugging her.

Its titanium arms, built primarily to crush flesh and break bones and wield blasters with pinpoint accuracy, envelop her with what is unmistakably a great affection, pressing Maya’s hooded body right against the droid’s warm, plated abdomen.

...It’s really, really warm, actually.

And also more than a little suffocating. “L… Let… go…”

“Ah! My foremost of apologies!” The droid releases her, sending Maya’s squat body tumbling to the floor. “I was very most caught up in thanking you, so I did not think to realize that you were being harmed…”

...Is something wrong with this droid’s AI? Maya’s never heard one with such an unusual way of speaking. She stands up and dusts herself off, coughing all the while. “Whew…”

The droid—standing tall and rigid—suddenly falls respectfully to its knees. “I must thank you muchly, kind Jawa! If you would permit me the honor of knowing your name, I could thank you even more muchly, and known to whom I’m supposed to repay this debt!”

“Uhm…” This droid’s oddities are becoming more prevalent by the moment. When has one ever asked for a Jawa’s name? Not there’s any harm in telling it, she supposes. “I’m Maya.”

“Good tidings, Master Maya!” the droid replies. “I am E-V3, a droid of the most humble of monastic practices and orders, trained in all manners of combat and philosophy, here to protect and shelter the galaxy against all that endangers it! Pleased to meet you”

Maya stares blankly at the droid, trying to process its words. “So you’re… er… h-hold on, what?”

E-V3 puffs up its chest proudly. “I am a jedi!”

…

Okay, this one definitely has some sort of deficient memory unit. A droid jedi? Maya’s heard drunken cantina tales that were more plausible. “What are you talking about?”

“A jedi!” E-V3 repeats, as if she presumed the issue is that Maya simply didn’t hear her correctly. “Surely you have heard of them before?”

“W-Well, yes,” says Maya. “I don’t think there’s a womp rat in the dunes who doesn’t know what a jedi is.” Even if she’s never been even three solar systems close to one before.

“Ah. Well, that means no explanation is then required!” E-V3 jumps to its feet, turning towards the light of the cave door. “Thank you once more again, Master Maya! I’ll be most certain to keep you in mind as I’m protecting the galaxy!”

“H-Hold on!” barks Maya, grabbing onto the droid’s left arm in a feeble (and futile) attempt to stop it from marching outside. “H-How are you a jedi? I-I mean…”

“Oh, do you wish for proof?” E-V3 raises its right arm, where the empty hand component gleams. “Behold!”

_ Psssshwwmmm _

A beam of bright, hot violet shoots out of the end, vibrating with a sizzle as it waves through the air. It’s the first time Maya’s ever seen one in her life, and yet she knows what it is upon sight. “A… l-lightsaber…?”

“Correct!” says E-V3, cheerily brandishing the blade as its hot glow reflects off the dreary cave walls. “Bequeathed upon me like any other! Is this not proof of my jedihood?”

Maya certainly doesn’t see that on just any half-tattered droid that falls onto her workshop bench. Even so… “Don’t you need to be able to use the force to be considered a jedi?”

“Naturally!” says E-V3, politely shaking Maya off of its arm and deactivating its lightsaber. “I am happily pleased to demonstrate! Just take a step back, if you will.”

Still quivering slightly, Maya takes a step back as E-V3 faces the pile of junk and scrap strewn about. If it had lungs or a mouth, this would be the moment where it takes a deep breath and closes its eyes in deep, concentrated focus. With steadfast joints it reaches out with its digited hand, slowly raising the arm with a concentration so pronounced that Maya can make it out even through her static eyes, making her breath hold tight within her lungs…

...

Nothing moves.

E-V3’s hand dances and shakes and stirs, but not a single object on the ground matches it. It eventually relents with a digitized sigh. “Hmm… perhaps my jedi training has not been well maintained as of the late…”

While it’s the expected result, Maya still feels a bit bad about it—E-V3’s disappointment is palpable. “W-Well, I don’t really know of any other droids that can use the force, so, uh, d-don’t take it personally.”

“But I can!” says E-V3 resolutely. “I have many a time in the past! If you were to simply see into my memory banks I could show you the battles I’ve seen! The sith I’ve slain! The people I’ve nurtured and protected with my blade since the days of old!”

“Th-The days of old…?” Maya’s still skeptical of E-V3’s claims, but there’s no doubt from the droid’s appearance and specs that it’s a bit of a fossil. “Um, how long have you been in operation, exactly?”

“Why, Master Maya…” E-V3 faces her with its one hand clasped to its chest. “I’ve seen the fall of the Republic with my own two eyes. I was there when the jedi order fell… when Coruscant became overtaken by autocracy… when Kaoru Skywalker turned to the dark side all out of love for her dear Rimi. I could tell you of them all firsthand, if you so wished!”

Maya’s head spins with this information. Some random droid she found in the wreckage of a crashed fighter has such a storied history? So it says, but… well, it does seem to have a lot of particular details… w-wait, shouldn’t she be trying to figure out what to do with this droid? She needs money, after all. And plenty of smugglers would love an assassin unit...

“Master Maya? Are you ill?”

Urgh, she’s thinking too hard. Maybe she should just ask questions. And the first thing on her mind is… “You’re, uh, really nice for an assassin droid, you know that?”

“Well, that’s because I’m not an assassin droid!” E-V3 states matter-of-factly. “I am a jedi, as I said!”

“If that’s the case,” says Maya, “then what’s your mission? What are you doing on an Outer Rim world like this?”

E-V3 laughs. “That’s simple! My mission is… you see… that is… er…” Its eyes dim for a moment. “How very much peculiar. I can’t seem to remember right now.”

Another sign of malfunction… Maya was beginning to pity the old thing. But she didn’t want to tell it as such verbatim, and turning it off to fix it brought its own set of risks. Not to mention it sounds dead confident about other areas of its memory… what’s she supposed to make of all this?

“Please, Master Maya,” says E-V3, crouching down to shake her meek shoulder. “I know my appearance may be that of a bloodless machine, but my jedi lineage is true,and my mission is clear! ...I just need to remember what it is!”

“O-O-Okay!” Maya yelps. Well, better that E-V3 act like this than one who’d hold that simmering lightsaber to Maya’s throat. And if Maya really did fix the memory issue that made E-V3 believe it was a jedi, that might change. So maybe this is for the best? But if she wants to sell an assassin droid to anyone it’d be necessary... 

“Are you still skeptical?” asks E-V3. “I can tell you the details of my past greatly in full! I’ve seen much that I think you would find interesting, Master Maya! And discussing the details of my history may yet provide me with clues as to the missing pieces of my memory!”

Maya looks over this worn, proud piece of metal she’s resuscitated. Any Jawa worth their credits would tell you it has some screws loose. With a little more fine-tuning and tweaking, a lightsaber-wielding droid like this would fetch a mighty high price. And yet…

Maya still feels it. The spark that grazed the edge of her fingers.

And she can swear there’s a very lifelike earnestness in the droid’s eyes.

She turns back to the table that she’d strewn E-V3 on minutes before, hopping up to sit comfortably as her legs dangle off the side. “Um… come here, then. Let’s try and figure it out.”

E-V3 complies without a second thought, sitting as her thighs brush against Maya’s own. Her flickering blue eyes are locked upon Maya’s face. “What should we start to begin with?”

“H...Huhehe…” Maya giggles, once again noticing how warm the droid is. “Well, um… I think you mentioned somebody named Kaoru Skywalker?”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know anything about Star Wars
> 
> Twitter: @DivineNoodles  
> CuriousCat: DivineNoodles


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